


The Beginning of the End

by ayumie



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-X-Men: Days of Future Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 17:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayumie/pseuds/ayumie
Summary: My personal take on John's and Bobby's reunion on the eve of battle.





	The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting on my laptop for a while and, after rewatching Days of Future Past yet again, I finally managed to finish it. It always bugged me that John wasn't in that one and, well, here's a missing scene :)

Pyro knew where they were going. They all did, what few of them were left. He didn't argue. They were well past the point for that.

The mansion had been destroyed years ago, left to desolation and decay, but word was the subterranean facilities were still functioning. The Sentinels were interested in killing, not destruction, and the X-men had sealed off their secret fortress in time and only visited it rarely, as need arose. Pyro picked his way across the rubble, apprehension growing. He hadn't wanted this, not for this place. Even after all these years, after turning his back on the school with such finality, his memories of the time he had spent here were bright, refusing to stay in the corner of his mind he had assigned them.

The entrance to the basement had been concealed, but Pyro remembered it well enough. As did Magneto and Mystique. They were met by Storm at the bottom of the stairs, but the old man swept right past her and she didn't try to stop them. She might be powerful, but she wasn't the one who mattered. The room that opened in front of them was cavernous, dimly lit, but there, at last, it was.  
This time, Pyro was happy to hang back as Magneto faced the Professor. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, a current of cold air where there should be none. It seemed like he had some catching up to do as well. Briefly meeting Mystique's eyes, Pyro took one step, then another. Again, no one stopped him. He made his way down a hallway he half-remembered, wasn't at all surprised when a shadow detached itself from one of the doors and fell into step beside him. It had been what? A year? Two? As usual, Pyro was the first to break the silence.

“So, I hear the showers in this place are working?”

Iceman looked straight ahead. 

“They are. You know the way.”

He did. They entered the shower blocks together. Pyro heard the door close and, after a moment, click locked. Iceman was leaning against it, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“We weren't sure you would make it.”

Pyro smiled as he shrugged out of his jacked, bright, sharp.

“We weren't too sure about you guys either.”

He didn't turn away as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. His left shoulder hurt as he lifted his arm, a badly healed wound aching still. He hesitated a moment before unclipping his wrist-lighters, terribly conscious of how vulnerable he would be without them. Pyro hated being without fire, hated the way that Iceman relied on no such crutches when it came to his power. Still, he did need that shower and he could feel Iceman's eyes on him. He had never been able to resist a dare.  
As he stepped under the hot spray, Pyro was grinning. The water felt heavenly, but he only washed himself briefly. Then he waited. Iceman's footsteps fell heavily and now it was Pyro's turn to stare. It had been a long time since they had been fully naked together and the other man's sheer bulk took him by surprise. Broad shoulders and powerful arms, a heavily muscled torso narrowing to slim hips. Bobby's cock was rising from a nest of blond curls, flushed and proud. It took him a moment to reconcile this new picture with the boy he remembered, but then Pyro found that he couldn't look away, couldn't even begin to hide the mute hunger he felt. The same hunger he saw mirrored on Iceman's face.

Pyro himself would always be wiry rather than built, but usually he didn't mind much. What mattered most – the only thing that mattered – still burned bright and hot inside of him. He lifted his head, shook wet hair from his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?”

Pyro's back hit the wall so hard he thought he heard the tiles crack. He moaned into Iceman's mouth, fingers scrambling over wet flesh. It was all happening so fast, which perhaps, he ought to have been expecting. He bit Iceman's lip, pushed back with what force he could muster. That got him a grin.

“Look around, Pyro. No fire anywhere. I could do anything I want to you.”

It was a game, said for his benefit. He was almost sure of it. A shiver ran down Pyro's spine and he bared his teeth.

“You're all talk.”

Incongruously, Iceman laughed.

“Oh, Johnny...”

Soft lips were tracing his neck, sweet and tender in a deliberate contrast to the rough hands roaming his body. For a moment, they just leaned against each other, both of them breathing hard. 

“I thought you might be dead. The Sentinels – they have fire, Johnny!”

“Don't call me that.”

Said quickly, routinely with none of the sharpness of a rebuke. Iceman's hands were cool as they ran down his flanks and, at their urging, Pyro turned willingly. He braced himself against the wall, impatiently listening to Iceman rummage around behind him. Then slick fingers pressed into his body. This at least was expected, familiar. Water dripped into Pyro's eyes as he let his head fall forward and he could feel the burn of Iceman's stubble against his nape. He bucked back impatiently, needing the stretch, the burn of being opened. Pleasure and pain were blurring together, making it impossible to think. Had it really been only ten years? Bobby's voice was still the same, though, breathy and urgent as he whispered into his ear.

“Gonna fuck you, Johnny. Just like this...”

The old Bobby would have teased, drawn out the tension, but there wasn't time. There never was enough time anymore. Pyro gritted his teeth as he felt the tip of Iceman's cock press against his hole, bracing himself in anticipation. His back arched at the first thrust and he bit back on a sob even as he pushed back in spite of the sting. Because of it. Shivers were wrecking his body as he struggled to adjust. It had been a while and Iceman knew better than to go slow. Hips slamming forward, he shoved in deep and Bobby had always been such a nice kid, such a sweet kid, except when it came to fucking. To this day, Pyro wondered whether Rogue had ever figured that one out. His breath was coming in quick, rushing gasps, as clenching instinctively around the thick length splitting him open. He knew that he needed to relax, but couldn't summon the coordination to do so. Cold breath fanned against his ear as Iceman leaned in, hips flush against the curve of his ass, finally buried completely. 

“What's the matter, Pyro? Too much for you?”

“Fuck you.”

Another huff of icy air that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

“No. Fuck you.”

Iceman did fuck him, then, hard deep thrusts that sent shocks of sensations through Pyro's body. It was all he could do to try and brace himself, cheek pressed against the tiles, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure crashed through him. The temperature was dropping rapidly and suddenly the angle was just right, cock against prostate, and nothing else had ever felt like this. Nothing had even come close. His own cock was twitching with every thrust, pleasure tightening like a coil, and he couldn't even reach down for fear of being slammed face-first into the wall. It was all but perfect and then a cool hand slid over his shoulder and around his neck. Just the slightest bit of pressure, thumb against jugular, and he was coming hard. Pyro's back arched as pleasure ripped through him, body tensing, shuddering with the force of his orgasm. He was only vaguely aware that the rhythm of the fucking was faltering, the brutal pace growing ragged, erratic. Bobby was still behind him, cursing in low voice like the words were being dragged from his guts. It didn't last. Bobby's hand fell from his throat and clenched into a fist even as his hips stilled, cock still buried deep. 

Long seconds ticked by before Iceman stepped back, allowing Pyro to straighten. Both men moved stiffly, warily. Wiping come from is thighs, Pyro resisted the urge to cut and run. There was nowhere to run to. He wrinkled his nose as he slipped his old clothes back on. Well, that couldn't be helped. The silence was starting to unnerve him. Turning back, he found that Iceman had resumed his position near the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. Ignoring the other man's scrutiny, Pyro slipped his wrist-lighters back on. The buckles of the left were easy enough to fix and, habitually, he checked the mechanism. Instantly, a small flame flicked to life, warm, bright comfort against the grating silence. Defiantly feeding the fire, he met Iceman's eyes. 

“What?”

The other man shook his head.

“It's weird. You being here.”

“Well, it's not forever.”

Either way, it wasn't. Extinguishing the flame with a snap of his fingers, Pyro fumbled with the fastening of the right wrist-lighter. The buckle was warped, had been for some time. He'd need to get it fixed, but there had been barely a chance to catch their breath in weeks and Magneto was too strung out to be bothered. Pyro felt more than saw movement and, instinctively, he jerked back. He caught himself just in time to realize that he wasn't being attacked. Iceman had halted in mid-step, gesturing towards his lighter.

“Let me...?”

Pyro's breath caught. For long seconds, he stared at the other man's outstretched hand, pulse thudding madly in his throat. He had faced cops and X-Men and Sentinels and none of them had made him feel such helpless panic. As if he were somehow sensing the reaction he was evoking, Iceman moved slowly, carefully. The first touch was devastating, Bobby's fingers encircling his wrist, thumb brushing the pulse point. Pyro stood motionless, watching dumbly as the other man threaded leather through metal. A few sharp tugs and the wrist-lighter sat firmly. Bobby briefly threaded their fingers together before pulling away.

“You're going to need these.”

There was nothing else to say. Stepping out into the hallway, Pyro squared his shoulders. He had never run from a fight. Soon enough, Iceman fell into step beside him. 

The End


End file.
